


Frivolous

by lebedev



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Brooding, F/M, Gen, M/M, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Unresolved Tension, gets a lil darker towards the end but what can you expect from this guy, reader's gender is ambiguous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lebedev/pseuds/lebedev
Summary: Alone with his thoughts, Vergil notices that they tend to drift to you. As they always do.He wishes that they wouldn't.





	Frivolous

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask when this takes place bc i don't have an answer lolllll

The twins were more alike than met the eye. True, to the ill informed, the pair seemed similar in looks alone. Vergil, however, knew different. Staring at his own clenched fist, he marveled at the divots and folds the action inflicted on his leather glove. No, he knew the truth intimately. They both were hedonists at heart.

While his brother’s vices were certainly _louder_ , that did not save them from comparison. When Dante was thirsty, he drank. When he was hungry, he ate. And when he was lustful— really, when wasn’t he lustful— he scratched the itch. The man lived a simple life, though one far more simple than a demon prince’s should. That was exactly why Vergil strived to be different, to be above, to be better. No simple life would ever be good enough for the son of Sparda. To jeopardize his ambition to indulge in simple vices would be an insult to his father’s memory.

And yet.

And yet, he found himself living with a human, of all things. One that knew its place, certainly. He noticed the way you scurried away from him, the way your eyes widened with every errant touch. He told himself again and again he didn’t mind. If anything, he’d be angered if you _didn’t_ fear him. If he was to be the future king of demons, it would be an insult if a mere human didn’t cower in his presence.

(The sound of clenching leather from his tightening fist said otherwise.)

Swirling thoughts pushed onward. Alright, so he allowed himself to live with a human. At least it was one he liked to watch. While his brother found solace in the company of women, Vergil preferred to simply indulge himself with images of you. In any other circumstance, the action of observing something beautiful was quite innocent. Yet, every time his gaze trailed down your features, he felt each moment slow to a crawl. He wanted to devour you. It was most enjoyable when your guard was down, unknowing of his covetous presence. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence either, not with the way you constantly got lost in your own thoughts.

While he wouldn’t admit it, he cherished the way your lips occasionally tilt to a smile while you poured yourself into your research. Though you never complained about your job as his tactician, even he recognized the extensive amount of reading you did each day. Even so, beneath all that drabble you must have found something that amused you. The way you endured with a smile was something he... appreciated about you. It wasn’t an easy undertaking to be his underling. Especially with his nature. True, it wasn’t as if he was promising you special protection after his uprising. There was nothing in this for you, minus a belief in his ideals. Still you served him without complaint. Without a doubt, you were the most loyal person he had ever met. Often he wondered how he came to be the object of said loyalty. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it, though he briefly wondered if you too felt the same pull. As he continued getting lost in his thoughts, he couldn’t stop himself from swelling with pride. You did all that work for _him_. _As you should_ , Vergil tried to remind himself. He was a prince, the son of Sparda! But... he would be remiss to deny that you were impressively devoted. You served him, you revered _him_.

He loved it. It made him sick.

There was nothing he wanted less than frivolous emotions with his plans so close to fruition. What would his father think if he saw him following his same mistakes, falling for a human? Vergil was not Dante. He wouldn’t debase himself low enough to fuck every pretty thing he saw.

No matter how often he repeated those words to himself, it couldn’t stop you from plaguing his mind. He nearly resented you for it. The fault truthfully was his and his alone, but he still felt that you should be held accountable for distracting him so. He constantly thought of you. He thought of what you would do when he finally summoned his army of demons. He thought of who would be the one to kill you, taking you away from him.

His grip tightened again, furrowing his brow. Was he even allowed to think of you in such a way? ‘To take you away from him?’ Were you his to begin with? He wasn’t sure what to think, and even less sure of what to want. Eventually, it seemed he lost everyone he held dear, and he’d be damned if he let his guard down to let it happen again. But against his better judgement, he wanted. He wanted everything about you. He wanted the way you smiled at him when he returned after weeks away. He wanted the way you lost your breath when he was around. He wanted you to know that you belonged to _him_.

When he was alone, struggling to sleep at night, he sometimes allowed himself to think of all the different ways he could get you to scream. In fear would be easiest. That amused him little. All humans he could best, and you were no exception. There were many that he wished harm upon, but not you. Never you. No, the scene he often created was one of you enraptured, sweat clinging to your body.

Your swollen lips (his), hung open as he had his fill of your body ( _his_ ). Your voice hoarse after screaming his name over and over, enthralled. The dream felt so real, he could nearly taste your desperation on his lips.

With a shake of his head, he snapped himself out of his daydream. Moving his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, he scolded himself for falling into this train of thought again. It was foolish to keep ignoring the obvious. Vergil found himself smitten with you. And nothing made his blood furiously boil more.


End file.
